O my God, Thou knowest I have never desired but to love Thee alone. I seek no other glory. Thy Love has gone before me from my childhood, it has grown with my growth, and now it is an abyss the depths of which I cannot fathom. -St. Therese

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Friday, December 25, 2009

Today Christ is born, today the Saviour has appeared. Today the angels are singing on earth and the archangels shouting for joy. Today the righteous rejoice, saying ‘Glory to God in the highest.’ Alleluia. (From Evening Prayers - Vespers)

Monday, December 21, 2009

The Christ Child's Letter to You . . .(given as a homily at Immaculate Heart of Mary on the Fourth Sunday of Advent)

Dear Precious One,

It has come to my attention that you are upset that folks are taking my name out of the season.

Here's a guideline: If you want to celebrate my birth, just get along and love one another.

Now, having said that let me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn’t allow a scene depicting my birth, then just get rid of a couple of santas and snowmen and put a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all my followers did that, there wouldn’t be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember me any time you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish. I actually spoke of that one in a teaching explaining who I am in relation to you. If you have forgotten that one, look it up John 15:1-8.

If you want to give me a present, here is my wish list. Choose something from it.

Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way my birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell me all the time.

Visit someone in a nursing home. You don’t have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

Instead of writing the President complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don’t you write and tell him that you’ll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.

Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can’t afford and they don’t need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of my birth, and why I came to live with them. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don’t know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warn smile, it could make a difference.

Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with people who work there. Give them a warn smile and a kind word. Even if they aren’t allowed to wish you a “Merry Christmas” that doesn’t keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn’t make so much money on that day they’d close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families.

If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary – especially one who takes my love and Good News to those who have never heard my name.

Here’s a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no “Christmas” tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don’t know them, buy some food and few gifts and give them to the Vincent DePaul Society or some other charity which believes in me, and they will make the delivery for you.

Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to me, then behave like a Christian. Don’t do things in secret that you wouldn’t do in my presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

Don’t forget, I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love me do what I have told you to do. I’ll take care of the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I’ll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those who you love and remember. . .

Sunday, December 20, 2009

My Advent journey has taken me on a pilgrimage of memories - through the state of Iowa. I have spent each day praying for one Iowa parish and her priest each day.

And now, I come to the end of my Iowa memories.

So, these final days before Our Lord's Birth, I plan to pray for our Bishops. I am thankful for Apostolic Succession - and for the unique gifts it brings to Mother Church. Through 2000+ years, the Holy Spirit has inspired and empowered an unending line of Shepherds to guide the faithful and preserve the faith.

During this season of Advent - and especially during this Year for Priests - I encourage you to pray for the priests and parishes dear to you and also for the Shepherds of this Age.

WASHINGTON (CNS) -- While welcoming a "good-faith effort" by Sen. Robert Casey to improve the treatment of abortion in the Senate's health reform legislation, the chairman of the U.S. bishops' Committee on Pro-Life Activities said a "fundamental problem" remains that makes the bill morally unacceptable.

Cardinal Daniel N. DiNardo of Galveston-Houston said the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops would continue to oppose the Senate legislation "unless and until" it is amended to "comply with long-standing Hyde restrictions on federal funding of elective abortions and health plans that include them."

Casey, a Catholic Democrat from Pennsylvania, has proposed language that he says would permit individuals to opt out of abortion coverage in any policy offered in a health-care exchange and would require segregation of funds in the exchange so that federal subsidies are not used to pay for abortions.

But Cardinal DiNardo said Casey's "good-faith effort to allow individuals to 'opt out' of abortion coverage actually underscores how radically the underlying Senate bill would change abortion policy.""Excluding elective abortions from overall health plans is not a privilege that individuals should have to seek as the exception to the norm," he added. "In all other federal health programs, excluding abortion coverage is the norm."

The cardinal also praised provisions in the Casey amendment to improve conscience protections and to support pregnant women and adoptive parents.

"However, these improvements do not change the fundamental problem with the Senate bill" -- its failure to incorporate current abortion restrictions under the Hyde amendment, which prohibits federal funding of abortion except in a few limited circumstances.

"We continue to oppose and urge others to oppose the Senate bill unless and until this fundamental failure is remedied," he added.

Friday, December 18, 2009

I am ashamed to say that I taught in Dyersville, Iowa for two years without once stepping through the doors of the Basilica of St. Francis Xavier.

I was told about the beautiful windows and sanctuary. "Oh, you must see it!" Everyone said.

But I was too busy or didn't think of it or didn't see the point.

We made it to the Field of Dreams. My children hit a few baseballs from home base. But I never visited the most important place in the whole community.

My only defense is that I wasn't Catholic then. Being Catholic makes all the difference.

It looks like I will have the chance to visit that part of Iowa again in a few weeks. And if I am passing through Dyersville at a time when the doors of the Basilica are open . . . I plan to stop for a visit.

I will go into the sanctuary and see the beauty. But I will also genuflect, cross myself, lower the kneeler - and thank Our Lord for the journey of grace that has brought me home.

On this, the sixth day of the third week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Phillip Kruse and the Basilica of St. Francis of Xavier.

May those who live in this community - though not Catholic - see the light of the faithful lived out before them . . . and may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

I have been trying to come up with a reason why I can remember the towns around Dyersville, Iowa. I didn't really live there. I just taught there. (I actually lived twenty miles away in Ryan, Iowa.)

But I taught Spanish there, and we did an awful lot of dialogue . . . in Spanish.

One of the "practice discussions" we would have is this:

De donde eres? (Where are you from)

Soy de EEUU. (I am from the United States)

But the students liked to express their individuality and everyone in the class could say they were from the U.S. For that matter, they could all say they were from Iowa.

What was unique and interesting to them was which small town (and small parish) they belonged to. So the answers usually went like this:

Soy de Holy Cross.

Soy de Earlville.

Soy de Dyersville.

Soy de Farley.

And so, today I am praying for another priest and parish in the area of Beckman High School. On this, the fifth day of the third week of Advent, I am praying for Fr. Dennis Cain and St. Joseph's in Farley, Iowa. May those who live near this parish, though they are not Catholic, see the light of the St. Joseph's laity lived out in their community. And may the same Holy Spirit who overshadowed a Jewish girl named Mary and brought the Divine Light to a lost world . . . shine a light in this community that leads to the conversion of many souls.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

They were my first group of students. For a small Catholic high school in the middle of rural Iowa, Beckman had about 130 students taking Spanish in 1989-1991, my first year as a teacher.

They had me running from the first day. It's not easy to keep up with students who have an 90% college-bound graduation rate. On top of that, Spanish was only my minor.

But it was a teaching job when I really needed one. And the faculty and staff were terrific, even to the non-Catholic new 1st year teacher (me).

And the group of freshmen . . . well they were the best reason for signing on the dotted line.

I loved those kids. I doubt they knew that. But I did. And there were many times as the years went by that I wished I could go back and teach them all over again.

One of the more frustrating things about teaching at Beckman - and loving your core group of students as I did - was that I could not go forward to receive Holy Communion with them. I remember feeling an ache in my heart as I watched them stand and move toward the Altar.

And at the same time, I knew that I didn't embrace all of Catholic teaching. I thought I knew most of it, but now I realize that I did not know much at all. The Holy Spirit hadn't come along and blown out the dusty corners of my soul to make room for Catholic teaching . . . to make room for the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Years later, when that miracle of grace happened, and my eyes were opened, and I saw the Eucharist as though for the first time . . . and I received the teachings of Mother Church without preconceived ideas and biases . . . I wanted to run to the Altar. I wanted to receive this One I had loved since I was a little girl. I wanted to be freed from the past so I could receive Holy Communion, not simply because my heart longed to accompany students to the Altar. But because I hungered for all of Jesus.

It was not enough that I had asked Him to come into my heart when I was a little girl. It was not enough to love Him and want to serve Him. I needed Him. I needed the grace of the Most Blessed Sacrament.

I had lived long enough to know that I couldn't manage the journey toward holiness without something more. And that something that I needed was the Eucharist . . . and the only Church with valid Holy Orders to give us priests who can pray the prayer of Consecration and bring Jesus to us!

About a month or two after entering the Church, I was walking forward to receive the Eucharist and the Communion song was "One Bread, One Body". The tears began to run down my face.

That was the song they sang at Beckman High School when the students went forward to receive. That was the song that brought me back to that time, those students, that missed opportunity, that incredible gift of teaching in this Catholic school, though I had very little in my resume (or in my soul) to warrant it.

And I realized, as that song played and the Faithful sang the words, that I am more in union with those students I taught so long ago than I was when I introduced them to another culture and language.

Today, I am in full union with the teachings of Mother Church, and I am free to stand and walk that aisle that leads to my greatest joy, the Eucharist.

The students came from a number of parishes in the area. Today, I turn my prayers to Fr. Raymond Burkle and Holy Cross Parish. May those who live near this parish - though not Catholic - see the light of the Faithful lived out in the community and may the same Holy Spirit who gave us our Infant Redeemer bring about many conversions through the witness of the Holy Cross laity.

On this, the fourth day of the third week of Advent, may God bless you!

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

It seems like a lifetime ago, but after college graduation (University of Dubuque), we moved to Ryan, Iowa. Actually, we lived in the country near Ryan. The UCC parish (where my husband* was the student pastor) was a few yards from the large country house where we lived. On the other side of the church was a cemetery. . . and the church, house and cemetery were surrounded by acres and acres of corn fields.

About the time we moved to Ryan, I began teaching at Beckman High School in Dyersville (home of the Field of Dreams). There was no way that we would have become Catholic at that time. Too much was riding on being Protestant. But, if we had been open to the grace that leads to Mother Church, we would have been members of St. Patrick's in Ryan or St. Mary's in Manchester.

So, today I'm praying for Fr. John Flaherty and two of the parishes he serves - St. Patrick's and St. Mary's. May the same Spirit that overshadowed the Blessed Virgin and brought us the long-awaited Messiah shine on these parishes. And may the laity be a light that draws many more into the arms of Mother Church.

Blessed third day of the third week of Advent!

*this non-sacramental marriage was annulled prior to my entry into Mother Church

Monday, December 14, 2009

On this, the second day of third week of Advent, I'm praying for Fr. Dwayne Thoman and the Church of the Nativity in Dubuque. May those who live near this parish - though not Catholic - see the light of the Catholic laity in their community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversion through the witness of the Faithful.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

On this, the third Sunday of Advent, I'm praying for Fr. Steven J. Rosonke and St. Mary's in Dubuque. May those who live near St. Mary's - though not Catholic - see the light of the Catholic laity in their community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversion through the witness of the Faithful.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

On this, the seventh day of the second week of Advent, I'm praying for Rev. Msgr. Wayne A. Ressler and the Cathedral of St. Raphael. May those who live near the Cathedral - though not Catholic - see the light of the Catholic laity in their community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversion through the witness of St. Raphael's Cathedral.

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

On this, the fifth day of the second week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Thomas Zinkula and Holy Ghost Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the Holy Ghost laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

On this, the fourth day of the second week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Daniel Knepper and St. Anthony Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the St. Anthony laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.

Almost 20 years ago, I began my first teaching position at Beckman High School in Dyersville, Iowa. In spite of the fact that Spanish was my minor and I wasn’t a Catholic convert at the time, I found myself the only foreign language teacher in a small Catholic high school, teaching all levels of Spanish to about 160 students. I remember having little confidence as a teacher and even less in the subject matter.

I pulled activities and assignments from every possible place. Somehow, I came across a little story written in simple Spanish which I thought my upper level students would be able to translate. I considered the story nothing more than an interesting Catholic legend.

Thankfully, I did not propagate my misunderstanding, but rather simply assigned the story to my students and left religion instruction to the religion department.

In January of 2005, while nearing the end of my conversion to the Catholic faith, I received one of many “care packages” from Randy and Mary Hill, a married couple in the Archdiocese of St. Louis that had taken me under their wings when they discovered that I was converting. The box they sent to me contained a book on Marian apparitions entitled A Woman Clothed with the Sun by John J. Delaney. While reading a chapter on Our Lady of Guadalupe, I came across something that would take that little story out of the realm of legend and into the realm of absolute reality for me.

In 1990, while completing a college-level course on Latin America, I learned a couple of Nahuatl words (Aztec language), one of which was “cuatl” (pronounced kwah-tell, emphasis on first syllable). Translated, it means snake or serpent. The Aztec people even had a god named Quetzalcuatl, which literally translates to plumed serpent.

The book I was reading explained that the Aztec pronunciation of the word “Guadalupe” would have been something like kwah-tell lah-shoop-ay. So, when the Lady said her name to Juan Diego’s uncle, he would have interpreted the first part as snake because cuatl and guadal are both pronounced kwah-tell. What I didn’t know—which the book explained for me—is that the Aztec translation of the second half of that phrase literally means to trod on something. When I put it all together, I was stunned. In Nahuatl, the name Guadalupe means One who trods on snake! So when the Lady repeated her name for a poor, uneducated Aztec man, saying call me Santa Maria de Guadalupe, she was actually saying, call me Holy Mary of One who has trod on the snake. In Genesis 3:15, this is the name God reserves for Mary, the second Eve; so when the woman says her name, she gives the name the Lord planned for her from the beginning of time.

I have no idea how I overlooked the miracles behind the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe all those years ago. I’m sure it’s because I didn’t put together that cuatl and guadal have virtually identical pronunciations in Nahuatl, and I had never learned the translation for the rest of the compound epithet. Still, it amazes me that I could teach Spanish in a Catholic high school, assign the reading to upper level classes, and not know the whole story. It cuts me to the heart when I realize that I taught my students about the conquistadors, but not the miracle of eight million baptisms that occurred in the seven years following the vision. Some sources estimate that the actual number of conversions might have been closer to nine million (with the total Aztec population only ten million at that time).

I’ve promised myself that one day I will visit Mexico and see the five-hundred-year-old tilma that bears the image of Our Lady. I just wish I could gather all my former students together in one place and have another chance to teach them the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe. With uncensored delight, I would ask them if they have heard the story—the true story—of the Woman who converted a nation with the help of a few Spanish roses, a cloak called a tilma, and one very humble Aztec man named Juan Diego.

I urge you to read more about Our Lady of Guadalupe, and let the story speak for itself.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

On this, the third day of the second week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Joseph Hauer and Resurrection Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the Resurrection laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.

Monday, December 7, 2009

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

On this, the second day of the second week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Mark Ressler and St. Joseph the Worker Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the St. Joseph laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

My life after high school was a busy one. Those next ten years brought three children and many more moves.

I lived in Illinois and Missouri before moving back to Iowa where my first husband (marriage later annulled) could attend seminary. I would never have predicted that he would pursue ministry and attend the same Presbyterian Seminary (University of Dubuque) that my father had attended many years earlier. Life is strange like that sometimes. We only spent his first year of seminary living in Dubuque. The final two years were spent at a student pastorate in Ryan, Iowa. But during that year in Dubuque, I began watching EWTN and was fascinated by a nun on Catholic television named Mother Angelica. The married student housing on the campus of University of Dubuque had cable television. And Dubuque cable carried EWTN before many of the other cable stations (since Dubuque was a solidly Catholic town). I would have to say that this was a significant moment in my journey.

It proves that even when our hearts are not seeking, God is working all things for His purposes. This final year of my own college degree (also at the University of Dubuque - undergraduate school) was the beginning of my deeper encounters with Catholics.

And I guess one could say that it began at Dubuque, in those quiet moments with EWTN and Mother Angelica. When my seminary husband would come up the stairs and approach the door to our apartment, I usually changed the channel. Why? Because it was a fascination that I couldn't even explain to myself. And so, I kept these things inside.

On this, the first day of the second week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Gabriel Anderson and St. Columbkille Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the St. Columbkille laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

As so often happens, our family moved yet again so that my father could take a new pastorate, this time in Manning, Iowa. I only lived there one year, my senior year of high school. The Sacred Heart Parish, like Mother Church, did not hit my radar. It's not that I was a solid Presbyterian. It had more to do with being a confused high school senior and the new student in a new town. I was too busy with everything . . . making all of those decisions in early life that send us on a crash course to broken hearts and broken dreams. And yet, when it all fell apart, I was left with the kind of heart that is ready to learn, ready to hear a new thing, ready to try something other than my own whims.

On this, the seventh day of the first week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Robert Gralapp and Sacred Heart Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the Sacred heart laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

In the mid 1970s, my father returned to pastoral ministry. The former Wesleyan minister answered a call to re-enter the pastorate, this time as a Presbyterian. During the preceding months, while living on the family farm, two yoked Presbyterian churches were in between pastors (Lime Springs Presbyterian and Saratoga Presbyterian). The vacancy in their pulpits meant that they had to find a guest preacher every week until they could decide on a new pastor to replace their previous pastor. In Presbyterian churches, this process can take up to two years. My father was asked to fill the pulpit on Sunday morning. This became a weekly event. Eventually, the two Presbyterian parishes asked him to become their permanent pastor.

We changed schools once again, this time attending Riceville Community School (from 5th grade through 11th grade).

Our years in Riceville are, for me, the best years of my childhood. If there is a part of Iowa that has my heart, it is this town.

This is also the beginning of my deeper awareness of the Catholic Church. It wasn't just a parish on the other side of our public school playground (as when we lived in Cedar Falls). It was the parish of many of my school friends. That gave it meaning. It gave the parish character, personality, hands-and-feet, a face.

I heard these friends talk about Catholic things. I still believed that we had a better (perhaps even purer) faith, but I was beginning to listen . . . to take note.

We passed Immaculate Conception Parish twice every day on our way to and from school. We passed it every time we attended basketball games or football games or picked up a few groceries.

One evening, as we passed this parish, my father asked my mother if she knew what they meant by "Immaculate Conception". She said it probably had something to do with Jesus' birth. My father said, no, it refers to Mary'sconception. Catholics believe she was conceived free of sin. My parents talked about that for a few minutes while I listened from the back seat.

It would be a significant memory for me. I would carry a prejudice against this teaching for decades and struggle with it during my own conversion into the Catholic Church. It would almost stop my journey. And indeed, it would have stopped my journey . . . if not for a miracle and a lot of grace.

The years at Riceville were full of many things. My father attended seminary in Dubuque and encountered some priests from the Catholic colleges in town (Loras and Clark). He began to accept the Presbyterian position on infant baptism. In fact, he became more sacramental in his theology, and my sister and I were baptized, we learned the Apostle's Creed and the Lord's Prayer (Our Father), and attend Presbyterian confirmation class.

In my middle school years, I attended Mass with one of my friends while spending the weekend with her family. I didn't have any clue as to what was taking place, but it was my closest encounter with the Eucharist - until I entered my 20s.

Another friend stayed overnight at my house and we spent one afternoon in my dad's church talking about the differences in our worship experiences. Catholic vs. Presbyterian.

My junior year, I went to prom with a Catholic boy. I had a serious crush on him and I think that fact also raised my awareness of his parish, Immaculate Conception.

Once again, I was blessed during these years to grow in my understanding of the faith - and the gifts we had as Presbyterians, even though we did not realize that all these gifts were ours because they were entrusted to Mother Church first and foremost.

No, we saw the faith differently. Christianity - in our minds - did not have a history to be traced. We had the Gospel stories and the other writings in the New Testament. But then, our legacy stopped, until the 1500s. We did not learn about the saints who lived during those first 1500 years. We did not study the Church Fathers. Or the development of doctrine. We did not discuss the origin of Sacred Scripture, how it too came from the Catholic Church, as She followed the inspiration of the Holy Spirit.

All these things were ours in isolation. They were gifts . . . that simply were. As though dropped down from heaven to no one in particular, to be picked up by Protestant Evangelicals somewhere in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Once again, we were in possession of many graces because we had received so many good things from our Catholic heritage - even if we didn't recognize the source.

On this, the sixth day of the first week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Ray E. Atwood and Immaculate Conception Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the Immaculate Conception laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

Today, my focus is on another town/parish near Lime Springs, Iowa. If you read yesterday's posting, you know how I came to live near this parish.

On this, the fifth day of the first week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Bernard C. Grady of St. Patrick Parish in Hampton, Iowa. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the St. Patrick's laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth. Blessed fifth day of the first week.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

Tragedy occurs when we least expect it. Early in December of 1973, my grandfather climbed a ladder on the side of one of his grain bins on the family farm. The cold December air had caused a layer of frozen moisture to form on the top of the corn. With wrench in hand, grandpa began breaking up the surface of the corn. We don't know why it happened, but somehow, grandpa lost his footing and fell into the bin.

The call came late in the day. My parents immediately began planning a move to northern Iowa. Grandma needed help with the farm.

My father stepped away from pastoral ministry in 1974 and suddenly, I had a farmer for a father. While he would eventually return to the pastorate, it would never be as a Wesleyan minister. The next time he stepped into a pulpit, it would be as a Presbyterian.

There wasn't a question about where we would attend Sunday worship services during our time on the farm. We went to grandma's church - an old United Methodist church in Lime Springs, Iowa.

I'm not completely certain of this, but I believe the Catholics who farmed the land surrounding Lime Springs (or lived in the very small town of the same name) attended Mass in Cresco, Iowa. Today's prayers focus on one of the parishes in Cresco. Notre Dame. Had we been Catholic, it is likely that we would have received the Sacraments from this parish. I realize that I was never far from Mother Church, no matter where we lived. While we worshipped in a United Methodist church, there is no denying the fact that many of our faith practices, the Scripture we cherished, and most of the tenets of our faith came from Holy Mother Church.

Though we never talked about the Catholic Church and we never even stepped through the doors of Notre Dame Parish, we were in possession of many graces because we had received so many good things from our Catholic heritage - even if we didn't recognize the source.

On this, the fourth day of the first week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Richard J Ament and Notre Dame Parish. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the Notre Dame laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.Blessed fourth day of the first week.

This Advent, I plan to spend time each day praying for one parish (and her priest) from the state of Iowa. I no longer live in Iowa, but it is my childhood home. Since I cannot go to Iowa for Advent and Christmas, I will pray for special Iowa places from my Missouri home.

Like most pastor's families, we moved a number of times during my childhood. By the time I began second grade, we were living in Cedar Falls, Iowa. Lincoln Elementary was an old building, the kind that is cold and drafty, with interesting nooks and crannies, old timey hooks for coats in the side rooms and wood accents that reveal traces of the thousands upon thousands of children who had passed through the doors.

The playground was boring. Monkey bars. Swings. A field for kickball. I suppose that is why I spent any time at all taking note of the neighborhood beyond the Lincoln grounds. Across the street, there was a Catholic elementary. I was fascinated by the children who played there. They wore uniforms and the teachers who did playground duty at that school were nuns dressed in full habit.

It was the first time I realized that there were Christian schools. It mystified me. I was the daughter of a preacher. I couldn't understand why my parents wouldn't send me to that school. Everything we did was Christian. Yet, we went to a public school when there was a Christian school just yards away.

That year, I learned that the Christian world is not united. We were Christian. Our entire lives were defined by our Christian identity.

But this was where it ended. We did not identify ourselves with Catholic Christians.

On this, the third day of the first week of Advent, I pray for Fr. Everett Hemann and St. Patrick's Catholic Church in Cedar Falls, Iowa. May those who are not Catholic - yet live near this parish - see the light of the St. Patrick's laity lived out in the community. And may the Holy Spirit bring about many conversions through their faithful witness, with that same divine breath that came upon a young Jewish girl in Nazareth.Blessed third day of the first week.

Do Catholics think about St. Anne during Advent? I don’t know the answer to questions like that as I have only been Catholic a few years. I’m thinking about St. Anne this year. If you are about to be a grandmother for the first time – like I am – St. Anne just might be on your mind this December as well.

I’d never heard the names of Mary’s parents until I became Catholic. As an Evangelical Protestant, we kept it simple. What do we know about Mary’s parents from Sacred Scripture? Nothing. And so, we left it at that. We assumed that the lineage of Mary had been lost over the centuries. We didn’t realize that the Church had always known the names of her mother and father. According to Church Tradition, Mary’s mother was named Anne and her father was Joachim.

I find it interesting to think of Our Lord’s grandmother during Advent. I simply cannot imagine what it was like for Anne to say goodbye to her pregnant daughter and watch as the couple left Nazareth and headed down the road for Bethlehem. Anne must have known that the birth would come before she would see her daughter again. She must have treasured those final days and hours, carefully preparing her daughter for childbirth and the care of the umbilical cord, the technique for swaddling the newborn, and the finer points of nursing.

She must have sent her daughter off with a mother’s blessing: may your labor be quick and easy. She must have been overcome with longing, when she placed her hand on her daughter’s swollen belly and felt the Messiah kick.

She must have felt all these things – if she was like me. If she was like every first time grandmother.

I wonder, too, what it was like after the census. When the Holy Family realized they would not be returning to Nazareth any time soon, did they send word to the grandparents that their grandson had been safely born? Did they tell someone who was traveling back to Nazareth to inform Anne and Joachim of the change in their plans? That they were going to Egypt? That they couldn’t come back for a very long time?

Did the messenger tell the grandparents in Nazareth that God had another plan for the little Holy Family?

And did Anne cry at the news? Did she long to see her daughter one more time? Did she ache to hold the grandson who would save her people?

Sometime during this month, God willing, I will see my daughter again. She might be resting in a hospital bed, watching her little boy as he sleeps in the bassinet nearby. Maybe she will be holding him when I walk through the door. Maybe she will be feeding him.

I pray that I will be a wise grandmother. A good grandmother. Precisely the kind of grandmother this little boy will need. As we count these final days of Advent, anticipating the arrival of our Infant King, I will be thinking of the Holy Family, but I will also be contemplating the grandparents back in Nazareth, who kissed their daughter goodbye over two thousand years ago – and gave their precious girl and her unborn child to a world that needed them both desperately.

Our Lady of Mount Carmel, pray for us!

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About Me

Ms. Bossert has been published by 50 diocesan papers since her conversion to the Catholic Church in 2005.
She is the daughter of a Protestant minister and grew up in the state of Iowa. Following her father's death in 2003, she went on a search for answers to the question of suffering. She found answers in the writings of St. John of the Cross. Today, she shares the story of grace that led her to the Catholic Church through writing and speaking.
For more information, please contact her at the email address provided.